Outside the sanctum

by John Smallshaw
(London,England)

A memory,well hidden..
..comes dancing unbidden as you stroll through your sleep..
..where you keep..
..your hidden desires.

Fires that burn bright in the turning of dreams..
..where it all seems so right.

I watch and watch yet..
..as the sweat on your lips slips onto your chin..
..waiting ..still waiting..
..will you please let me in?

I know the answer is no..
..the secrets will stay and I have to go..
..into another lonely night.

Where I run through those rooms in the gloom.
Lit by the moon my face is awash..
.with a tide on the ebb.

Caught in this web I slowly awake..
..to this ache that I feel.
Now that you're gone it's unreal...my visions congeal and drip slow.
Dipping thickly to mop at my brow, I feel sickly and wan..
But your secrets go on.
While I stay.